Bitter Scars
by love-ends-with-hope
Summary: Draco and Hermione fight, as enemies tend to do. An escalating argument leads to some interesting information being revealed. Turns out they are not so different after all.


**_ Bitter Scars_**

_love-ends-with-hope_

_Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own 'em. Sorry._

_Summary: Hermione and Draco both learn something shocking about each other._

_For now it is a one-shot. May become a chaptered story if there is enough interest._

_This story deals with mature subject matter, reader discretion is advised._

_Please let me know what you think. Thanks._

* * *

The day had begun ordinarily enough, little did anyone know today would turn the

world on its end. It would change all that was known or thought; and quite possibly, it

could change the fate of the world. It would most definitely change the fate of two

sworn enemies.

The morning was gray and stormy when Hermione Granger awoke. The

air seemed to crackle with the promise of a fantastic thunder storm, perfect weather.

She sat by the early morning fire, as was her habit. She was not doing homework, nor

was she reading a text book; she was reading an innocent -or so it seemed- Muggle

romance, _Engaging the Enemy_ . She was rarely seen in this leisurely state,

reclining with little grace; her feet -complete with pink bunny slippers- were thrown

carelessly over the arm of the chair. She was at peace, a welcome thing in this time of

war.

She looked out the window; the sun was fully risen, it was time to begin the day.

She hurried upstairs to her dorm and got ready to face another day, a new set of

challenges. She heard people begin to rise, to make their way down into the common

room. She showered, washed her face, brushed her teeth, got dressed and generally

made herself ready for the day. She heard a knock on the door and, as her roommates

were as yet oblivious to the world, she answered it. There stood Ginny Weasly, in an

interestingly partial state of dress. She wore her uniform skirt, but on top of it had only

a very clingy, very white tank top.

''Mione,' she said, obviously irritated. 'Harry and Ron both say they will go to breakfast if

you are not down there in three seconds.'

'Morning, Ginny,' Hermione was unfailingly bright, she was most definitely a morning

person. 'I'll be down there in two seconds. Did you go down into the common room

dressed like that.'

'Yes,' said Ginny shortly.

'And is that Ron I hear yelling and cursing?'

'Again, yes.'

'Ahh. I see. See you later, Ginny. Might I suggest a tad more clothing?'

The only response she got was a very sarcastic eye roll as her friend walked away.

'I swear, if she's not down here in one second I'm going up to get her,'

Hermione heard Ron's impatient voice.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you, mate,' said Harry, 'Do you remember the last

time you tried to go up those stairs? Anyways, I think I see her coming now.'

'Morning, Harry,' called Hermione for the stairs.

'Morning, Hermione,' he answered.

Ron suddenly got a mischievous look in his eyes. Before she could greet her other best

friend, Hermione found herself sliding down where there had been stairs seconds

before. She lay in a very undignified heap, staring up at her best friends. Ron quickly

removed his foot from the bottom step, looking down at her innocently. However, he

did not remove it quick enough; down came Ginny, still wearing the white shirt,

only now her skirt was tossed up over her head.

'Ginevra Weasly!' Ron bellowed, his facing turning a very interesting shade of

red. 'Have you no decency? Do you enjoy looking like a right trollop in front of the

entire House?'

Ginny's face suddenly became a colour which rivaled her brother's.

'A trollop?' she shrieked, her voice reaching even those still in their dorms. 'A

trollop, is that what you think? I was i innocently i walking back to my dorm to

change when someone, not naming names here, decided to be a bloody prat and turn

the stairs into a slide. You find it entertaining to watch girls come sliding down here,

their feet and skirts going over their heads?'

'I...uh...I...no?' Ron stuttered, unsure how to respond to that.

'Ron Weasly, you are the stupidest git I know.' With that she left, her dignity

surprisingly intact, and walked quickly up the stairs. Harry just laughed.

'Shut up,' said Ron, still slightly dazed.

'That girl is good; she comes flying down here looking like she's hardly wearing

anything, and yet, i you're i the one who looks like an idiot.'

'One comment about how my sister looked and they will have to search the lake

for your body,' Ron warned Harry.

'All right, I get it. But, man, you saw her, I mean she's your sister and all...'

'Do not even think about finished that thought,' Ron said dangerously.

'Consider it unfinished.'

'All right boys. Time for breakfast,' said Hermione, neatly deflecting the flow of

conversation.

'Food,' said Ron happily; nothing cheered up a boy faster than the promise of

food. The trio walked out of the portrait whole, Ron talking about food, Hermione

laughing at him, and Harry thinking about a certain red haired 5th year.

'What do we have today?' asked Harry.

'Transfiguration, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures and last, and oh-so-least,

Double Potions with the Slytherins.'

'Lovely, I just love to end the week with Snape and Malfoy,' said Hermione. 'The

ferret-faced, arrogant little...'

'I would not finish that sentence if I were you, Mudblood,' came Malfoy's

drawling voice from directly in front of the trio. Harry and Ron both stepped protectively

in front of Hermione, their wands raised.

'What are you going to do about it, Malfoy?' said Ron, taunting him.

'Why doesn't the Mudblood face me? She's not frightened, is she?' Malfoy asked,

spite and sarcasm lacing every word.

'I do not fear you, Malfoy,' said Hermione, stepping neatly between her best

friends. 'I loathe you, I detest you, I hate you, and I pity you. But I do not fear you,

because you are nothing. You are a spoiled little boy who thinks the world should bow

to him. You are a little brat clearly training to become one of Voldemort's minions,

obeying Daddy's every command.'

Malfoy face paled as he lost his temper. He grabbed Hermione arm and dragged her to

where her back was against the wall. He closed the distance, until there was no space

between them.

'You know nothing about my father, Granger,' he said, voice dangerously low.

'Nor me. I am nothing like him. Do not speak of what you cannot understand. You may

loathe me, but I am disgusted with you, your kind should not be allowed to live.' At this,

Hermione brought her wand up between them.

'Give me one reason not to,' she dared him. Malfoy grabbed her wand from her

hand and threw it down. It hit the floor with a soft clatter. He then took both her hand

Into one of his and held her arms above her head.

'Give me one reason,' he taunted, wand right in her face. From behind him,

Hermione heard a soft dry of 'Accio wand,' and a second later Harry was holding

Malfoy's wand. Malfoy turned to look at him, and in that second's distraction, Hermione

attacked. She raised her knee quickly, doing significant damage to more than his pride.

He stood gasping in pain for a moment, not relinquishing his hold on her. After

regaining his composure he looked back at her.

'Well, she's a feisty one, and everyone knows I like a challenge,' as he spoke,

Malfoy ran a finger down the side of Hermione's face. She flinched. Distantly, she heard

the sounds of her friends fighting with Crabbe and Goyle. She did not know if they had

even noticed what Malfoy was doing to her, but knew she could not make a sound. She

raised her chin and looked defiantly into Malfoy's steely blue eyes.

'Still not backing down?' Malfoy asked her, with a false air of concern in his

voice. He ran his hand down her side, stopping when he reached her waist.

'These robes do you no justice, Granger,' he said, enjoying the feel of her

squirming under his touch. She had had enough. Hermione quickly kicked her leg out,

aiming this time for his foot. It worked, he tripped neatly, landing on his back. The only

problem, she had landed on top of him, and he had yet to loosen his hold. He rolled

swiftly, pinning her underneath him. She fought and struggled, but to no avail; he was

Far stronger than she. It was in the interesting predicament they were found by none other

than Minerva McGonagalll.

'What is the meaning of this? Has Hogwarts become some sort of brothel?' she

stepped up to Malfoy and pulled him up by the arm. When she turned to Hermione, she

was startled to see there were tears in her eyes.

'And just what has been going on Mr Malfoy?' she asked sternly.

'A fight,' he answered succinctly. Meanwhile, the other four students were just

beginning to disentangle themselves. Crabbe and Goyle both sported spectacular nose

bleeds, Ron had what would clearly become a black eye, and Harry was sure he had

broken his hand. Harry and Ron caught sight of Hermione, standing as though in shock,

tears sliding down her cheeks. Malfoy also saw the tears.

'Not afraid of me?' he asked sarcastically. He laughed; a low, cold laugh.

'I do not know what has happened, nor do I know who the blame lies with. I will

escort you all to Professor Dumbledore's office at once. We will wait there for him to

return.'

'Yes, Professor,' they chorused. She accompanied them to the statue, said the

password and all seven of them walked up the stairs. After a tense few moments of the

two rival groups glaring at each other, and Ron and Harry shooting Hermione worried

looks, Dumbledore walked in.

'Good morning, Minerva.' he greeted. He looked around at the students, as

though he had been expecting to see them.

'Good morning, Albus. Shall I leave you all alone?'

'Please, and will you inform their teachers they will be missing classes?'

'Of course.' And she was gone.

'It is a great shame intelligent students such as yourselves cannot get along,

especially in wake of what is to come. We must be unified or we will fall.'

'You expect us to be united with the enemy? They are the reason darkness

falling around us. They are the ones who will be wearing the white robes, torturing

innocent people, murdering Muggles,' said Hermione, her voice nearly catching on the

last word.

'Do not judge me on the actions of my father, Granger,' said Malfoy harshly.

'Why is there not more interhouse unity? Because the houses do not trust each other,' said Dumbledore.

'We have never been given cause to trust the Slytherins,' said Harry, glaring at

those present.

'Why should we trust foolish Gryffindors? Why should we trust unpure students,

who should not be allowed to enter the castle?'

'You must reach out to your fellow students. You must draw them closer, depend

on them, let them depend on you,'

'When has any member of the _Golden Trio_ reached out to any Slytherin?' asked Malfoy,

looked malevolently at Hermione. 'When has she ever allowed us closer?' Hermione could not

help but hear both meanings of his words.

'When have you reached out to me? You hide behind Daddy Death Eater, and

care nothing for fellow human beings. You do nothing but insult those you do not deem

worthy .' Hermione glared at him, taunting him.

'As I have already said, you know nothing about my father. Nor me. So stay out

of it.'

'And what exactly do you know about my life?'

'That you are a pathetic Mudblood who does not deserve to live,' replied Malfoy, quite matter-of-factly.

'Mr Malfoy, I will have none of that. Detention and 10 points from Slytherin,'

Dumbledore said admonishingly. Hermione was enraged beyond anything she had ever

known. She was no longer thinking clearly.

'Malfoy, do have any idea how difficult my life is? Do you know how old I was

when I first considered committing suicide? Do you know when I started cutting

myself?' Everyone looked at Hermione, shocked. Dumbledore's eyes lost their twinkle as

he looked sadly at her. 'Well, do you?'

'No,' said Malfoy, rather interested now. He had always thought her to be a

happy person, rather an enviable thing. He never expected this.

'I was nine. Hardly old enough to understand the word, yet I understood how

badly I wanted to do it. When I was ten I started cutting myself. All my life, vicious little

boys, like you, have been telling my I'm not pretty enough, not good enough, not

worthy of their attention. I began to think they were right, I was worth nothing. Coming

to Hogwarts, certainly in the last few years, I have been realizing they were wrong. And

I can only hope one day I will find someone who thinks I am pretty, finds me worthy of

his attention. I do not need someone like you telling me I don't deserve that kind of

happiness, that I am not good enough. I have been hurt by too many people, people I

trusted. ' Her last several words were choked out, her voice wavering as more tears fell

down her face. She had never told anyone this, not even Harry or Ron. They looked at

her, shocked, maybe even appalled. She jumped to her feet and ran from the room.

Harry made to follow her. As did Malfoy.

'You say away from her,' said Harry angrily. 'Don't you dare go near her.'

'No,' said Dumbledore softly. 'Go after her, Draco.'

'Professor!' said Ron. 'You can't do that. This git is the last person she needs to

see.'

Dumbledore ignored him.

'Go, Draco.' Malfoy nodded and left, not even looking at Harry or Ron. He found

her not far away, hidden in the shadows, her back against the wall. He sank down

beside her.

'Hermione,' he said quietly.

'Go away,' she said, her voice thick. 'I don't want to see you, or anyone else.'

'I was six,' he said softly.

'What?' she asked somewhat stupidly.

'I was six,' he repeated, 'the first time I attempted suicide. My father had been

beating me and my mother, trying make me become like him, and I couldn't handle it. I

ran to the kitchen and took out the largest knife I could find. It was a meat cleaver. I

held it right in front of my heart, and started sobbing. No matter how badly I wanted it,

I could not force myself to do it. He found me, and beat me again, telling me I wasn't

worthy of the Malfoy name. I couldn't be what he wanted me to be. Do you know how

old I was the first time I cast an Unforgivable? Seven. Not a human, though, on my cat.

Do you know how many humans I have killed and seen killed? Because I don't. I can't

remember. Their faces still haunt my dreams, I don't even know their names. '

Hermione stopped crying and gaped at him in astonishment.

'I thought of all the ways I could do it, but didn't have the guts to attempt it,'

she said softly, almost ashamed that she didn't have the courage. She was, after all, a

Gryffindor. 'I always thought I was the only one with problems, I thought it was all my

fault. I didn't even think how much worse it could have been.'

Draco gave her a rare smile. Then it vanished as he rolled up his sleeve. There, right

above where the Dark Mark should have been, were four neat, perfectly spaced scars.

The looked fresh, no more than a month old. Hermione was now beyond shocked, as

she silently pulled her down her left sock. Draco stared at the old scars. Almost a dozen

even lines were marked across her ankle. They were clearly old and healed over, but

she had done enough damage to leave permanent scars. He let out a low whistle,

almost as though he was impressed.

'Let me guess,' he said. 'Razor, right?'

'Yeah,' she said softly. 'I'll never forget the sharp bite of it slicing in. It was a

pretty, girly razor, too. Pink with flowers on it.' She looked at him, silently asking a

question she could not voice.

'Same. Only not so girly. And I know what you mean, you skin feels like it's on

fire.' Just talking about it, so matter-of-factly, and with I Malfoy I no less, made

Hermione start to cry again, she tried to be silent, but he heard anyway. He put his

arms around her and pulled her into him as she started to sob. They stayed like this for

several minutes, as he also began to cry. They were crying for the innocence they had

lost, the pain they had suffered, and also for each other.

'I'm sorry,' his voice was so quiet, muffled by her hair, she only just heard what

he said. 'I didn't know, Hermione, I'm so sorry. I wish I could take it all back. But you

need to understand, I am not my father. I will never be him. He is a monster.'

'I know,' she said. 'I'm sorry, too. I never should have said what I did. Forgive

me, Draco?'

'Only if you will forgive me,' he answered.

'Of course.'

'I suppose we should be going back, you're friends will think I've murdered you

or something if don't go back soon.' Draco stood up and offered his hand to Hermione.

She took it, surprised at how comfortable and right it felt. They walked back to

Dumbledore's office hand in hand, depending on each other for support. After several

guesses, Hermione got the password (Sugar Quill), and they walked up the stairs. When

they entered the office together, they're were four very shocked faces, and one old man

smiling benignly.

Well, there it is. I like it, I guess that's cause I wrote it. My first stab at something quite so depressing, I hope it was all right. Someone (you know who you are) has already told me that Draco 'softens' to quickly. In response to that I say: when you are talking about matters like suicide and self mutilation you tend to 'soften' quite quickly, also considering he's never shared any of this with anyone. What did you think? Should he have taken longer to open up? I love all my readers, and I love my reviewers more, so review!

love-ends-with-hope


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